Author: Tim

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What Level of Talent Are We Talking?

In Matthew chapter 25, Jesus tells a few different parables to describe the period of time where we wait for the second coming. After telling a story about not knowing when it will occur, He launches into a story about how we’re supposed to act while we’re waiting. It’s the parable of the talents.

In this case a talent is not a “skill.” Here it’s a weight measurement. Before coins were used widely, it was common to use measures of weight for paying amounts of precious metals during transactions. A talent is about 75 pounds, and the most common precious metal used back then was silver. In the context of the passage, we can consider a talent about 20 year’s worth of minimum wage.

Jesus wants to drive home a point each time He uses a parable. In this one He’s stressing that it’s important not to rest on our laurels in terms of building God’s kingdom while we pass through this life. In the story we have a rich man who’s heading out of town for an undetermined amount of time. He calls three of his servants together and entrusts each of them with a large amount of money (five talents, two talents, or one talent), each according to his ability. Each servant is to work at growing the value of the money he’s been entrusted with while the master is away.

The master eventually returns, and he calls everyone together to see what they’ve been able to accomplish. Both the five-talent and the two-talent servants had gone out, worked hard, and doubled the boss’s money, and he praised them both for it. The third guy hadn’t even tried. He went out and hid the money, rather than even bother to put it in the bank where the boss could collect interest off of the deposit. The one-talent servant started making excuses, portraying himself as being afraid of the ruthless opportunist that he calls his master.

“So let me get this straight,” says the master. “You think I’m a ruthless opportunist…you fear what I’m going to do when I find out how little you’ve done…and still the best you can do is dig a hole and hide the money in the ground somewhere? You didn’t even take the time to go put it in the bank so I could collect interest?” The master takes the talent from this guy, who has proven himself incapable of handling this amount of responsibility, and gives it to the five-talent (now 10-talent) servant, who has demonstrated his ability to handle it.

There are a few things I think are interesting about this parable.

First off, the two diligent servants received exactly the same reward, even though they brought different amounts for their boss. This demonstrates that the reward is based on faithfulness, not results. No matter how little (or how much) you have, be faithful with it. Even if you don’t think it’s much, God can do big things with it if you devote it to God’s plan (remember that Christ used a kid’s lunch to feed a crowd of at least 5,000). It’s important to remember that the master gave to them according to their ability. No matter how much you’ve got, be faithful with it.

Secondly, this parable illustrates the idea that as you prove yourself capable of handling responsibility, you’re entrusted with more of it. When the master gave to them according to their ability, he did it with at least the partial intent to develop and grow their ability. Remember that God doesn’t need to see you demonstrate your ability to do something; He already knows better than you what you’re capable of. Demonstrating an ability to handle responsibility is more for you than for Him. At the end of this parable, there was a servant with 11 talents, a servant with four talents, and a servant with no talents. Just from the few verses we see about these men, we know that the first two didn’t always oversee the amount they eventually ended up with. Looking at your own life, have you grown in trust and capability, to the point where you can look back at past experiences and see how they helped lead to areas of greater responsibility later in life? With your current level of faithfulness, might you one day be placed in charge of 20, or even 50 talents?

This is a parable about the tragedy of missed opportunities. Our King, the master in the parable, is coming one day. We’ll be called to account for the things that have been entrusted to us, and we’ll be held responsible for the faithfulness we’re now demonstrating. In light of that accounting, will you be happy to see the Master return, or are there changes you need to make first?



Matthew 25:14-30 (ESV)
14 “For it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted to them his property. 15 To one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16 He who had received the five talents went at once and traded with them, and he made five talents more. 17 So also he who had the two talents made two talents more. 18 But he who had received the one talent went and dug in the ground and hid his master’s money.19 Now after a long time the master of those servants came and settled accounts with them. 20 And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me five talents; here, I have made five talents more.’ 21 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’22 And he also who had the two talents came forward, saying, ‘Master, you delivered to me two talents; here, I have made two talents more.’23 His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’ 24 He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, 25 so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here, you have what is yours.’26 But his master answered him, ‘You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? 27 Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. 28 So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. 29 For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. 30 And cast the worthless servant into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

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There’s A Way Out

I took a class one time that required me to read a book about traffic. Living in the DC area, I have plenty of opportunities to observe traffic firsthand, so the book helped explain some of the things I see regularly.

One of the concepts that stuck with me is the notion that many car accidents happen when people fixate on the bad situation they’re heading into. If you see that you’re about to impact something, and it’s all you focus on, it’s all but certain that it will happen. You go where your eyes look.

On the flip side, drivers avoid many accidents by focusing on the way out. If you can’t stop the vehicle in time, the only way to avoid an impact is to find another way out. Again, you go where your eyes look.

Reading this book may have helped me avoid an accident once. I was driving our family somewhere, and I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have. We came around a downhill curve, approaching traffic that was slowing to stop at a traffic light. The gap between us and the car in front of us closed quicker than I anticipated. I stomped on the brakes, but we weren’t going to stop in time. As crazy as it sounds, in a flash I remembered that lesson from the book, and my eyes looked left and right instead of fixating on the looming bumper. I swerved to avoid the car, spilling over into the next lane. Thankfully the spot in the lane right next to us was empty and the vehicle in whose way we just jumped stopped in time.

I’m glad I did my reading assignments for that class.

Sin is a lot like that. We all struggle with it in some way. Some sins are recurring, while others you didn’t even see coming. It could be an addiction, or it could be the result of a heart that’s bitter or holds grudges. Whatever it is, it seems like all it takes is the blink of an eye before you’ve messed up again.

Take heart, though. There’s some good news in the book of 1 Corinthians:

The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure. -1 Corinthians 10:13

You haven’t been tempted beyond what you can bear, but there’s another round of temptation coming your way. When it does, instead of fixating on the impact, look for the way out, because there’s going to be one.

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Today’s the Tomorrow We Talked About Yesterday

One day when my youngest daughter was four, she asked Mommy if she could have a lollipop. It was too late in the evening to let her have it though, so my wife told her she could have one the next day. Sure enough, our little one remembered the next day:

“Mom? Is it tomorrow?”

“Yes, today’s the tomorrow we talked about yesterday.”

It’s an off-the-cuff, but profound saying. “Today’s the tomorrow we talked about yesterday.” When you think about it, each of us is the product of our past choices and experiences. You are the person you are today because of the things you’ve gone through.

If you could go back and change something somewhere along the line…erase a mistake…capitalize on the knowledge you have now…you’d have a new set of experiences. You’d no longer be the person you are.

You are the person God knew you’d be at this point. He can, and (if you let Him) He will use you to do great things for His kingdom. All the mistakes, all the missed opportunities, along with all the high points, milestones, and celebrations…they helped shape who you are right now. Because of who you are, with your placement and background, there’s something that only you are equipped to do for God’s glory.

In the same way, the things you experience today will shape your tomorrow. This includes not only the things that happen to you, but the situations you place yourself into. The choices you make hold tremendous bearing over what will happen to your future. Make sure you’re making good ones.

Tomorrow will soon be here; will your future self be thankful for what you’re doing today?

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It’s Not Just About You (Part 2 of 2)

The guy in the back with the dorky pose…don’t know him

The sun came out for our second day on the whitewater. The rain and gloom had passed, and we were all much more relaxed now that we had survived the first day of paddling. The mood lifted once the gray skies, drizzle, and apprehension gave way to sunshine and confidence.

As far as the water level, this was a perfect scenario; it was an April weekend that followed a large amount of rainfall in New York’s Adirondack Mountains, but the warmer temperatures and rain helped melt a lot of the snow, which also ran into the river. The result was a river so swollen with churning whitewater that even many of the local guides had never seen it quite this big.

Our second day was a little different from the first. This time we linked up with one of the local outfits that knew the river pretty well, and we stuck close to them for a collective “safety in numbers” advantage. Laura was still our raft’s captain, and I was still paired with her to project the voice commands a bit further, but we rotated some of the paddlers around between boats.

In the afternoon, the local boat was in front of us, and then the next two rafts were ours. As we came around a sharp bend in the river, all the color drained from our faces. Spanning two thirds of the river was a gigantic standing wave that had a nasty rip curl at the top. It was a freak river feature that could only occur when extreme amounts of water shot through that section of the waterway. The guides didn’t know it was there, and none of us out-of-towners expected to see anything like it.

The local boat saw it too late, and all they could do was try to paddle through it head-on. It was too much for them; the boat got flipped right away and everybody got dumped in the chilly water. The rest of us paddled for all we were worth to get to the safer route. We safely made it past the wave, then surveyed the damage. Since we were the first boat on the scene, we made for the biggest group of helmets bobbing in the water. We started grabbing people by the life jackets and pulling them aboard. The raft behind us picked up the guide, but we got everyone else. Our kayakers started buzzing around the area picking up dropped paddles, disposable waterproof cameras, and even somebody’s bottle of Coke.

We were very near the capsized raft at that point. I thought back to all the raft-flipping I’d done in the pool during the dull winter months. I must’ve flipped a capsized raft at least 50 times in the pool. All that training was perfect for a moment like this; if I couldn’t use that knowledge and experience now, what was the point of doing it at all? I wanted to go after it…

I actually put my foot up on the rim of the raft to jump into the water. I turned back to tell Laura I was about to go after the raft, but that’s when I realized the state of complete disaster our own raft was in. It was pandemonium. Our raft was meant for eight people, but we only put six of us in it at the start of the day. Now our raft was bogged down with 14 people, only half of which had a paddle. Our raft was a self-bailer, meaning it had holes in the bottom so water that splashed in would drain out on its own. Instead of the normal inch or two of water on the floor, now it was midway up our calves. We were still flying down the river, but we were largely at the mercy of the current, headed towards God-only-knows what kind of waves, whirlpools, or strainers, and nobody knew the plan to meet up with the other rafts.

The people we just picked up were understandably chattering away about what just happened. They loudly thanked us for plucking them from the water, but all their excitement started causing a major communication breakdown for our crew and all we wanted was for them to stop talking! Laura’s tiny voice was yelling, trying to establish some sense of order, but it wasn’t doing much to get through to the newcomers. I was paired with her exactly for the purpose of echoing her commands loud enough for everyone to hear. I wanted so badly to go after the flipped raft, but it would’ve meant leaving them in an even more chaotic situation.

I turned my back on the capsized raft and started echoing Laura’s commands in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Our guests quieted down and our crewmembers in the front of the raft, no longer distracted by excited yammering in their ears, were able to hear us and start pointing us in the right direction. Everyone with a paddle dug just about as hard as they could, and we sluggishly moved out of the main current into the calmer waters near the riverbank. In the middle of it all, our trip leader, Tim, paddled his kayak up to the flipped raft and jumped on. I was pretty distracted with the situation in our raft, but the last I saw of him, he was laying on the raft with a big grin, paddling hard and looking like he was having the time of his life. (I know you’ll read this at some point, Tim…you beat me to it!) Anyway, it took awhile, but we eventually gathered all three rafts to reunite the guide and crew with their boat.

It was an adventure, for sure. In the moment, it was absolutely crazy and scary, but even now, more than 15 years later, I bet everyone on our trip remembers that portion of it. The trip had so many fun details that I had to journal about the experience (which is where I looked for a refresher)!

I can’t even tell you how much time I spent practicing how to right a capsized raft while in the pool at college. Most of it was done just for fun, but each time I did it, it helped contribute to the overall muscle memory and cementing the automatic steps that would need to occur when a raft actually flipped over on the river. What better time to use this experience could there possibly be than this opportunity?

Here’s the crux of it all though: just because you’ve focused so much time and effort into training or preparing for a specific type of ministry or situation that you ignore things that are “outside your lane” when God drops them in your path. To truly be a player on God’s team, you need to be willing to do what needs to be done, whatever that may be. Even if you haven’t prepared for a given scenario, He’ll make sure you’re equipped with everything you need when He presents a new challenge to you. The only thing you might be missing is a willing heart, and that’s something only you have the power to control.

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It’s Not Just About You (Part 1 of 2)

During my senior year of college I went on a whitewater rafting/kayaking trip with a club at school. It was April, and the following month was graduation, so it was sort of an early celebration of finishing college.

At our pre-trip meeting, our faculty adviser, Tim, told us that we’d have some non-students joining us. Some were alumni from the club, others were people he knew from other endeavors. There was one guy, Joshua John, that joined us for the trip, but he didn’t really know anybody else other than Tim. I thought that was probably kind of an uncomfortable situation for him, and I was one of the club’s officers, so I made a mental note to go out of my way to make him feel welcomed. Turns out he was into some extreme physical fitness workout routines. He was a man of few words, but was definitely someone you’d want sitting in the front seat of your whitewater raft, getting doused by big water while setting the cadence for everyone else in the boat.

We had some crazy experiences on that two-day trip, and I’ll cover one in the next post. We drove to the Adirondacks in upstate New York, and went rafting on the Upper Hudson River. When we left school, everything was sunny and warm and everyone was in good spirits. Everybody started getting quiet as we arrived in the mountains to find that it was raining and some spots still had a good deal of snow on the ground. After some scouting around we set up camp in the rain and in the dark, split up camp chores, and took care of whatever we needed to do, then headed off to bed. Somewhere in here I made sure to track down Joshua John and told him we were glad to have him along with us.

The next morning it was still raining, but we hit the water anyway. The river was even higher than normal during the spring thaw, and everyone was a little jumpy. We had two rafts, and there’s usually a bit of competition among rafters when there are multiple boats. It helps build camaraderie and teamwork, so the competitive spirit is generally a good thing. The other raft was fun; they’d start spinning while going through rapids, or in calm water the crew all stood up on the edge and tried to run around the outside of the raft without falling into the water. Good stuff like this helps make a trip more fun.

Run around the raft rim

The captain of the other boat, Steve, was mischievous. He was out to get the two of us that were co-captains of our boat, an alumnus named Laura and I. Laura was physically on the shorter and smaller side. The other boat’s crew took it upon themselves to sneak up behind us during calm water, grab Laura, and pull her into their boat, essentially kidnapping one of the captains. It was funny, unless you were Laura, who helplessly became a temporary hood ornament for the other raft.

Over the course of the two days they tried sneaking up to try to get me too, but most of the time we were able to either get away or fend them off. On the second day they snuck up on us again and a couple of their goons jumped into our boat and grabbed me. They tried throwing me over the side, into the river. They caught me off guard and I knew they were too much for me, but I didn’t want to make it easy for them. I resolved to hang on as long as I could before they overpowered and dunked me.

While my jaw was clenched hard and my eyes were shut tight, there suddenly came a clamor from the front of my boat. Bodies got shoved out of the way as Joshua John jumped into the fray. He picked up one of the attackers and threw him straight down hard into the water. The other invaders bailed out of our boat and jumped back to their raft. As the first guy surfaced again, confused and gasping for air, he asked with wide eyes “what the heck was THAT?!” He looked up to see Joshua John standing in our raft, barely breathing hard. He resolutely said “I have to protect my captain.”

I’m glad I found him early in the trip to say hi!

Just remember that as you go through life, the way you interact with people affects how they interact with (or on behalf of) you and others. It’s not always going to be quite this dramatic, but are you positively impacting others enough to make a difference?

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You Did That For Me?

Photo courtesy of wordsofreason.wordpress.com

Three or four years ago our family of five went to see my folks for Easter. It was the time of year when the winter’s cold was gone and the kids could finally get some time playing outside.

While we were all in their backyard one day, I told my wife and kids about some of the places I used to visit in the woods nearby when I was a kid. On the spur of the moment, we all decided to take a trip into the forest to have a look for ourselves.

Our kiddos have always enjoyed being in the woods, but most of the places we’ve taken them have had nice wide trails that make it easy to get around. There were no trails here, so we had to find our own way. Without really thinking too much about it, my plan was to bring them into the woods through one section, then bring them down to see some cool spots along the creek, and then start coming back up through a different area.

We got down to the creek, and I showed them an old well, then brought them to the spot where some of us slid down a natural waterslide and built dams as kids. I had a childhood friend whose dad loved golf; in order to work on his swing, he’d stand in his yard and drive old golf balls into the forest. As a kid, friends and I would come across some of these golf balls while playing in the woods; they were always in the same general area, so he must’ve had a consistent swing. J Now, with my own family in tow, I told my kids to keep an eye out for golf balls. Sure enough, we found at least one.

As we started heading back, I took them along an easy route I followed when I was younger. It’s a funny thing though, if you stay out of a forest for 10 or 15 years, you might be surprised at how much it changes while you’re gone.

We crossed back over the creek and started heading back up the hill. It started getting tricky, though, because in our path were numerous thorn bushes I didn’t remember running into before. We’d make some progress up the hill, only to run into a spot that was too thick for us to pass, so we’d have to scoot sideways or even come back down the hill some. There were spots where we could squeeze through, but I had to step on a few thorny branches and hold back others with one hand while my kiddos carefully passed through.

It’s not so bad when you’re tall enough to see over the thorn bushes, but when you’re only about three feet tall and Mom and Dad don’t seem to know where they’re going, it can be scary and even overwhelming. My kids started getting worried, even coming to the verge of tears, so I stopped being delicate with the thorns in order to move us along faster. Instead of grabbing them with just a finger and thumb, I pushed them aside and held them out of the way with the back of my hand so we could make wider openings and move toward our goal a little quicker.

It was slow going, but the kids hung in there and we finally made it out of the woods. As the panic subsided, the kids noticed that one of my hands had a surprising amount of blood on it. I didn’t have any bad cuts, but the thorns had scratched me enough that it caused the blood to start flowing. It looked much worse than it actually was, but my daughter was very concerned because of how much blood she saw. Through her eyes, all she knew was that Daddy was bleeding so that the rest of them could safely pass through the dangerous spots.

As we had approached Easter that year, we had been talking more frequently about the suffering Jesus endured aside from the cross. The beatings, the humiliation, the crown of thorns, the sheer indignity, and all sorts of other often-forgotten things are still part of the story. He was so weak from the beating and other types of suffering that He couldn’t even carry the cross, as the condemned often did. My wife voiced the connection, using our adventure as an object lesson. It’s like it clicked for my oldest daughter. He took my place. I escaped the suffering because someone else did it for me.

I don’t know where you are in life, or if you consider yourself a spiritual person. None of that changes the fact that Christ paid for the price of your admission into Heaven. You can’t earn it, you can’t pay your own way, and you can’t pay Him back. The only way to get into Heaven is to use the ticket He bought you. He bought tickets for everyone, but only a small percentage of people take Him up on the offer.

He’s holding out a ticket for you, and He wants you to take it. Will you accept it?

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Hopelessly Stuck

Photo courtesy of dearlylovedmist.com

When I was probably 6 or 7 years old, a married couple built a new house across the street from us. They had moved in, but the house wasn’t totally finished yet. When you’re a little boy, new houses in the neighborhood are fun because there’s a ton of mud or dirt piles to play in.

One rainy day I was playing outside in my yard. I had my raincoat and my big rain boots, so I was all set. Our yard already had a lawn, so it didn’t really have many puddles. Since the house across the street wasn’t landscaped yet, it had all kinds of puddles and mud to go stomping through.

I knew the neighbors, and they were nice, so I crossed the street and started splashing through the grossest part of the yard. I don’t think the gutters were installed yet, so the water ran right off the roof and into the yard, making for some thick, goopy stomping. My plan was to go knock on the front door to say hi, but it was starting to be a tough slog. The mud felt like it got stickier and sticker, sucking on my boots as I tried to pull them up.

It got to the point where I couldn’t pick my feet up anymore. The rain boots were already much heavier and clunkier than the shoes I normally wore, and now it got even worse with the mud’s suction. My boots were stuck in the mud, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

I started to panic. I tried shaking them loose, but that didn’t work (it probably made it worse). I think I was afraid to pull my feet out of the boots and walk across the mud, scared that my actual feet would get swallowed by the muck. Defeated and out of ideas, I squatted down (afraid to sit, for fear of getting stuck) and started to cry.

I don’t know how long this went on, but soon the front door opened and Joyce, my neighbor, poked her head out. With a look of worried concern, she saw me in my helpless and pitiful situation, and right away got some shoes on, came close enough to grab me, and lifted me right out of the mud.

Cherished readers, this is the story of the gospel, plain and simple. I was in a mess that I couldn’t escape on my own. The difference with the gospel is that we’re all born stuck in the mess, we didn’t wander into it because we made a bad choice.

People have different reactions to being stuck like this. Some choose to just wallow and enjoy the mud as best they can. Others look at the situation and focus on it being a futile, meaningless struggle. To each and every one of us, though, a hand is extended, offering us a way out of the muck and mire. It’s not forced upon us; it is merely offered. This hand, friends, is the hand of Jesus Christ.

If you’ve come to realize that you’re stuck in the mud and would like a way out, I urge you to look into what Christ did for you. He’s gently knocking on the door of your heart. He’s not going to force the door open; He waits for you to open the door. Won’t you consider letting Him in?

It’s better than being stuck in the mire. What do you have to lose?

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Sometimes You Can’t Roll Your Sleeves Up Far Enough

In the Air Force I spent about four or five weeks preparing to pass a screening course for survival instructor candidates. As the time drew near for us to move from preparation to test time, the tone of training got more serious. Up until now we had been building our bodies and learning skills, but there was plenty of goofing off, too. The culmination of our time at Indoc was a nine-day course that was split between rigorous assignments on base and in the barracks for the first half, followed by a period of being out in the field for the second half.

On the last Friday before the course began, it was tradition for instructors to run students through “The Swamp.” The Swamp was a nasty section of Lackland Air Force Base that was just what it sounds like. Making it through the event was not a prerequisite for the course, but it was a way for students to begin making the transition from head knowledge to experience. (It was also fun for the instructors to do.)

A large portion of Air Force Basic Training was focused on professional appearance, making the uniform look good, and establishing a proper demeanor for recruits now living in one of the armed services. While that’s important and has its time and place, preparing to be a survival instructor carried with it a totally different set of objectives. The goal in a survival situation is to do just about whatever it takes to survive and return to friendly territory. A survival instructor goes through grueling circumstances so they better understand how to convey that crucial information to the students they’ll later teach. The Swamp helped students further overcome their reluctance to take actions they might not otherwise take.

Our outing started with some laps up and down a steep hill while wearing heavy rucksacks. We then made our way to the edge of the water. As we got near, we could smell the nasty, stinky, stagnant swamp. It was muddy, had some gross stuff floating in it, and we could only imagine what lived there.

We made our way to where the instructor indicated, then set down our rucks. We weren’t dirty enough yet, so he had us start low crawling through some of the muddiest channels. Naturally, you try to keep your head out of the mud when doing something like that, but that’s exactly what our instructor wanted to break us out of doing. “C’mon, get some mud on your face!”

All of us got herded into an area on the bank of the water, where we started taking turns leading exercises in soaked, muddy uniforms and heavy, waterlogged boots. Pushups, crunches, flutter kicks, eight-count bodybuilders, all sorts of calisthenics made more difficult or tricky by our environment. During flutter kicks, while our soaked boots were up in the air, water would run out of our boots and down our legs. On another occasion I remember that the ground was so soft, while I was in the pushup position my hands sunk down past my elbows into the mud. I couldn’t even bend my elbows to do pushups anymore! We alternately laid on our backs, then on our stomachs, all of us covered in mud except for our necks and heads.

Finally the instructor flat out told us to get every inch of ourselves covered in mud. Then, for his idea of a fun photo-op (which I think is fun too, in retrospect), he had us find some kind of plant to put somewhere on ourselves. By this time, you could hardly even distinguish between the students.

It’s tough to see, but yours truly is the fifth from the left

After awhile, our instructor called an end to the experience. We all headed back toward the bus. Since we couldn’t just walk onto the bus in our current condition, though, we had to get all the mud off. The stinky, dirty, nasty water that once seemed to stink so badly now washed us clean. We walked waist-deep into the water, bent down so the water was up to our neck, and in some cases even went all the way under. Considering how clean we looked when we came up, you wouldn’t know the water was so disgusting and swampy. It later took a few trips through the washing machine for those uniforms to become free of the swamp stink, but they eventually recovered.

This was a crazy experience. It was challenging, certainly, but it was very valuable. All the physical training we’d suffered through for weeks, or even months in some cases, and now this situation, demonstrated something very interesting to all of us: if we try pushing ourselves to the limit, we’ll arrive at our self-imposed mental blocks much sooner than we reach our actual limits. Maybe it’s been awhile since someone asked you: “Are you giving it everything you’ve got?” Maybe nobody’s ever asked you the follow-on question: “Yeah, but, are you really giving it your all?”

It’s also valuable to understand that when you’re confronted by difficult (or even miserable) circumstances, it’s a lot more tolerable when you have others there with you. If you’re headed toward something tough, link up with a few others so you can encourage each other along the way. Alternatively, keep your eyes peeled for someone who’s alone in the mud right now. It could be more encouraging than you’ll ever know for them to see someone wading into the mess to come alongside them.

(To see other posts related to the survival instructor indoctrination course, click here.)

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Who’s Going Back?

Photo courtesy of angryjogger.com

After Air Force Basic Training, I moved on to become a candidate for survival instructor. Since there was a high wash-out rate for that job field, we first had to complete a physically demanding screening course.

Before we could even begin the course, we had to spend a few weeks or even months building up our physical stamina. After having just graduated Basic, most of the people that arrived were very skinny and had not had any serious exercise. By the time people graduated the course, they would need to do hundreds of pushups a day, be able to run a few miles within a certain time limit, and be able to ruck four miles with a 65-pound ruck sack on their back in under 60 minutes.

These things were all possible, but our bodies needed time to build up to those capabilities. Our instructors designed PT programs meant to work us up to those goals. As a way of keeping tabs on who was deficient in which areas, we periodically had performance checks…where we measured and recorded our performance in a task (whether it be a timed run, number of repetitions done, etc.).

When we first started timed runs or timed rucks, everybody went at their own speed because nobody knew how their natural speed would play out over the distance in question. As time went on though, and we learned a bit more, we started recognizing not only our own abilities, but those of our teammates. Some people learned “okay, I’m usually able to make the cutoff with a few minutes to spare, so maybe I don’t need to push it quite so hard.” Others learned “that guy usually sets a pretty good pace…if I can just keep up with him for most of the distance, I can fall off near the end and still make it.”

The result was that trainees would usually pair off or group up according to their ability. During a run they would set the pace for each other, or during a ruck they’d be able to talk and keep each other’s spirits up. Being together helped them draw strength from one another and made them stronger than they would be on their own.

It seemed, though, that in every class you had someone who struggled very hard with certain things. Some people were naturally good at running, others were good at push-ups. Some were gifted at rucking long distances quickly, others were just born leaders. We had a guy in our class, Bob, who wasn’t really good at any of those things.

During runs Bob would always be last. He’d be near the end during ruck marches. His pushups were okay, but his pull-ups were terrible. He was not a leader. He was a goofball that would drag down the team’s average performance, and he didn’t seem too bothered by it.

One day we did a timed run. We had a one-mile dirt track, which made it nice because then we only had to do a quarter of the laps that we’d normally do on a regulation track. I don’t remember how many laps we had to do that day, but it was at least two or three.

The results were predictable. The regulars were first across the finish line, and the next few guys finished in what was a pretty normal order. By the time everyone else had finished and were all doubled over with our hands on our knees in the grass near the finish line, Bob was still on the track, way behind everyone else.

Sometimes on runs, the people who finished early would jog back to meet up with guys still trying to cross the finish line, and go at their speed to encourage them along until the end. I don’t remember everyone’s first names anymore; I’ll just call this guy Jack. Jack looked down the track and asked “who’s going back for Bob?” This was much further back than any time we’d gone back for someone before.

Jack looked around at everyone, and nobody seemed willing to go that far back to meet up with Bob. Without another word, he took off running across the field to meet up with Bob. After he took off he didn’t look back.

You can imagine the mood among those still left at the finish line. A little bit of guilt, a little bit of “but…it’s Bob.” It didn’t take long though, before everyone else started running across the field, too.

Now imagine you’re Bob. You’re plodding along at your best pace, which never seems to be good enough. Everyone else has left you in the dust, and you’re on your own. Even though this is one of your personal best distances and times, you can’t even see anybody anymore. But then here comes Jack, running over the hill and meeting up with you to match your pace and maybe urge you on a bit. As soon as he comes alongside you, a group of more than a half dozen other guys appears over the same hill, coming back for you.

Sometimes you just need to be willing to be the first one to step out. Jack didn’t know what would happen, but he decided that he was going, with or without anyone else. His resolve set everyone else in motion.

If you’re a Christ-follower, there are going to be things in your life that you are not going to want to do. There will be other times where you know there’s something that you ought to do, but you really don’t want to. It could be something like starting a new ministry from scratch because you’re the only one in a position to do it. It might be visiting a shut-in to see how you can help them. Whatever it is, nobody’s doing it, and you have the ability to do it.

After you step out, you just might find that others follow your lead.

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You Can’t Be Serious…

Image courtesy of YouTube

Imagine you’re lost in a jungle, starving, scared, and dirty. Hunger is ever present, and food is all you can think about. Then you see a lizard that you’re pretty confident you can catch.

Right now your stomach might turn a little bit, but if you’re in that situation you might start drooling. What makes the difference?

Part of it is the fact that you’re probably not desperate for food right now. Another part of it might be how squeamish you are about being around little critters.

When I was attending the screening course for Air Force Survival Instructors, the instructors wanted to impress upon students that you can’t let discomfort come between you and the actions you’ll need to take to survive. As a way of helping students get used to that idea, we had a whole slew of terrariums that were filled with all kinds of creepy crawlies. I don’t remember everything that was there, but there were lizards, toads, spiders, bugs, mice, and snakes. We had the opportunity to “get friendly” with them. We had to clean the containers they all lived in, so we had to handle them and get accustomed to holding things we’d ordinarily shy away from.

  • This guy had a Banana Ball Python around his neck

We even had Max, a 20-foot Python, which we needed to feed every few weeks.

  • Taking Max out for feeding time
Max getting ready for lunch

Some of us were more creeped out than others when it came to these critters. Some people weren’t bothered by most of them, but might have a problem with one or two of them. I don’t know that there was anyone who was unfazed by everything, but it was all done for the sake of meeting our discomfort, or even fear, head on.

You might find yourself in the middle of a situation where you’re creeped out by what you see around you. This might be your opportunity to get more comfortable with the idea of functioning well in the presence of something that gives you the willies.

Are you being held back because of your fear of something? It might be that forward progress can only happen after you face your fear. Fighting for your survival can be a messy business, and a lot of it comes down to how much discomfort you’re willing to accept. Are you willing to get uncomfortable?